


==> Be Myalin Grahce

by PhoenixAccio



Series: Fansession works [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fantrolls, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, Pale Porn, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Purring Trolls (Homestuck), Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 12:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixAccio/pseuds/PhoenixAccio
Summary: Marlee is having a rough time and Myalin tries her best to help her moirail as much as she can.





	==> Be Myalin Grahce

**Author's Note:**

> honestly this fic is basically diamonds erotica lmao

Your name is Myalin Grahce, and you are concerned about your moirail.

Well, that's not exactly saying much. You're pretty much always concerned about your moirail. What can you say? They're a very concerning person, and as their moirail it _is_ kind of your job to worry about their wellbeing. However, this time, there is a reason you're worried. You just heard a very concerning sound come from the other room, in which your moirail is currently residing.

Another loud groan emanates through the wall, followed by a loud thud, and you stop ruminating on your conciliatory duties and rush off to actually help your real life quadrantmate in real life instead of just thinking about it.

As it turns out, you were right about your moirail's emotional state. At the moment, they appear to be banging their skull rhythmically against the table, a low, rough groan coming out of their mouth.

"Uuughgghhhhhjkkhgjn," says your moirail

"Marlee, are you all right?" you question.

Your moirail, Marlee, releases another unintelligable groan, pressing their face against the table. You think this one may have been intended to contain words.

"Pardon?" you ask, crossing the room to sit beside them, and they turn their head a little to reply more clearly.

"Everything is terrible and I'm dying," Marlee whines.

"Why are you dying?" you ask, papping their face in concern.

The violetblood presses their face into the palm of your hand, closing their eyes and allowing themself to chirr, just a little, in pale gratitude.

"I dunno," they reply, and groan again.

"Wait," you say slowly. you look at your moirail's face under your palm. The skin beneath their just barely opened golden eyes is underscored with significantly more purple bruising than usual.  
"Oh, fantastic," you mutter sarcastically. Now you know exactly what the problem is.

"Marlee."

"Yeah?"

"How long has it been since you last slept?"

"Uhhhh," Marlee replies. They appear to be doing some mental calculations. Finally, they open their eyes a little more and look at you, turning their face again to press closer to your palm. "Like, three days? I think. Maybe longer."

"Marlee!" you chastise. You aren't sure why you're surprised. Marlee doing self-destructive bullshit like staying up for three days straight or seeing how long they can go before giving in and eating is annoyingly common. You're just glad they have a moirail in you and aren't just doing all this with nobody to force them to go to bed, or eat, or whatever their latest shenanigans involve.

"Sorry," Marlee groans. Well, good.

"Come on," you say, lifting Marlee a little bit. You aren't a highblood, you don't have your moirail's strength, but you don't need to lift them all the way, just enough to get them to come with you. You get them to their feet, and the shorter troll flops their head against your chest, putting their arms around your neck.

"Come on," you say, and drag them to the room you share.

When you reach the room, you glance momentarily at their recuperacoon, in the opposite corner from your own, but shun it for the pile in between the two. Marlee probably won't stay in their 'coon unless you calm them down first. When you reach the pile, you toss Marlee, ragdoll limp, onto it, and then sit down beside them. They don't protest.

"So," you say, once the two of you are situated, Marlee curled up with their head in your lap. "What the hell were you thinking? You need to sleep, Marlee."

"Sleeping is a waste of time," the violetblood slurs stubbornly. "There's no point. You just waste six hours and then you're covered in slime."

"Eight," you say.

"Wha-?"

"You're supposed to sleep for eight hours, Marls, come on."

"Fine. You waste eight hours, that's not better," they reply.

"And this isn't a waste?" you ask. "Look at you, you're exhausted, you can't exactly do anything like this. You're practically in sopor withdrawal already." You pick up their hand, which is currently shaking uncontrollably, as a visual aid.

Marlee closes their eyes, then opens them. When they look at you, pale violet tears are pooling in the corners.

"I've been trying to sleep. I just sit in the sopor for as long as I can, completely awake, and then eventually I give up. There's no point, why should I waste time trying to sleep if all that happens is I get all slimy?"

There it is. You had thought they were just screwing around seeing how close they could get to full-on withdrawal. It's happened before, you'd had to force them, struggling, into their 'coon, before they managed to kill themself. But this time, it actually is insomnia. They've been trying to sleep for a while, so slam-dunking them into a recuperacoon isn't going to work.

"Oh, Marlee," you say, brushing their hair out of their eyes. They are crying now, not just on the verge of it, so you carefully wipe the tears, as well. The fact that your claws are so close to their eyes and they don't even flinch is a sign of just how much they trust you. You purr softly.

"Shoosh," you tell them, moving your hand to pap their cheek. "Shoosh, you're fine, I'm going to stay with you on this pile until you fall asleep, okay?"

Marlee nods, and presses their face into the contact. You drag your hand down their face in a caress, and bring it back up to brush your thumb over their ear fin, smoothing it down from its distressed flare. Their quiet purring grows louder as you bring both hands up into their hair, scritching softly with your claws. You reach a horn, and rub at the base gently. The volume of their purring spikes suddenly, and they gasp, pressing their head against your fingers. You grin softly, and continue to massage your moirails horn bed, your other hand petting their hair rhythmically. Weakly, Marlee reaches up with one still shaking hand, and paps you back. You chirr in reply, and shift to give them easier access. As you continue rubbing at their horns, Marlee's hand makes its way into your hair, undoing your braid carefully. They comb their claws through your long, straight hair, brushing across your scalp on their way down, and now you're purring just as much as they are. You move your other hand so both are at Marlee's horns, scratching gently at the tender skin around them, but you stop when you feel crusted blood.

"Marlee..." you say softly, looking at them.

"Yeah, I know," they say. "Sorry. I was stressed."

"If you were stressed, you should have come to me. I'm your moirail, it's literally my job to keep you calm."

"I didn't want you to be worried about me," Marlee says, but it's clear they understand what's wrong with that sentence as soon as it leaves their mouth, so you let it go with another shoosh.

"Just try to come to me next time you feel that way, okay?" you say. "I promise you don't need to be concerned with worrying me."

Marlee nods, and moves closer to you, rearranging your bodies so they're sitting up more with their face against your chest. You look down at Marlee's slightly scarred horn beds, examining the new damage. Though they're crusted with violet, you suspect that it's just because they used to be bleeding, rather than there being any significant quantity of damage remaining. Your theory is confirmed as some of the blood flakes off under your claw, leaving behind a few distinct cuts but nothing too serious or extensive. 

Brushing off whatever excess blood wasn't being used to scab over the injuries, you bend down to press a kiss to the base of each of Marlee's horns. At the feel of your lips against their head, they relax just a touch more, and chirr contentedly. You close your eyes. Situation resolved, you let your shoulders fall. As your muscles relax, you realise just how tense you had been in the first place. Maybe that's what Marlee had been picking up on earlier.

This train of thought is interrupted when Marlee shifts in your lap, moving to leave the pile. As they try to stand, you catch them around the waist.

"Where are you going?" you ask, a warning tone in your voice.

"I'm bored!" Marlee whines, struggling slightly. "Let's go do something."

"Absolutely not," you reply, tugging your moirail back onto the pile. "You're staying here and you are going to rest."

"You know I'm not just gonna fall asleep right away because you want me to, right?" they ask, ear fins flaring out slightly in annoyance. "I've been trying to sleep for days, if it was that easy we wouldn't be having this problem."

"I know that. I just want you to try for a bit, okay? Resting is better than running around, even if you don't actually get to sleep."

"Fine," Marlee grumbles, flopping over to lay across you, and pushing you flat onto the pile in the process. "But that means you're staying here with me. You're not allowed to do anything fun if I'm not."

"You got it." You laugh, pressing your hand against your pouting moirails cheek, and, as it enters your mind, you turn your head and whisper in their ear. "Pale for you."

"Pale for you too," replies Marlee.

The two of you lay there together for several hours, until you're satisfied that despite Marlee never actually falling asleep, they aren't about to drop from sheer exhaustion. As soon as you let them go, Marlee drags you off to something more entertaining, and you let them take you.

 

(Your moirail's insomniac streak breaks a couple of days later. They fall asleep on your shoulder watching a movie, and as you drop them into their recuperacoon, a bit of the worry lifts from your shoulders.  
This one thing, at least, is okay.)


End file.
